


Through the Jungle Through the Dark

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Series: I Never Told You Til Just Now [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Melinda May has advice sometimes, Phil Coulson: human disaster, Phil is having a crisis, Plot sort of, Resolved Sexual Tension, Skye is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye has given Coulson some time to think, and he's doing just that. Maybe over thinking. In this final installment in the series, will he finally get his shit together?<br/>Written for the series I started for SkoulsonFest2k15. Once upon a time I supposed this would fit in the Free Theme category for Day 7. Maybe a bit of Superhero & Handler, but mostly just Superhero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Jungle Through the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Final installment! I guess you don't have to read the other works in this series to make sense, butttt you should. Please.  
> All chapter titles are from the song "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes.

"I’m concerned,” Coulson began, looking through old SSR files deep in the Playground, “that Skye and I are becoming too...close.” May’s silence was not unexpected, but he still fought the urge to look at her face. Flipping through sheets of aged paper, he wondered if he would need to continue or if she would eventually respond.

“Phil.”

He sighed. “I know. As the one charged with bringing up new SHIELD, I have a responsibility to keep things professional, and focused, and free from anything that might--” _Did she just snort?_ Coulson turned around then, and wasn’t met with the serious or troubled or even annoyed face he expected.

“Phil,” she repeated, suppressing her smile with an eye roll.

“What is happening here?” Coulson asked, caught extremely off guard. Was May _laughing_ at him? Walking over to a board room table in the middle of the cellar, May sat down and motioned for him to do the same. Reluctantly, he did.

“Coulson, ‘too close’ has come and gone, here,” she said slowly, looking him in the eyes. “If you think this is some new development…”

He knew it wasn’t. However, he liked to think it was not so clear from the outside. He frowned. “How long?”

May sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Hard to say,” she said, seeming to give it some serious thought. “Frankly, as soon as you brought her on I was skeptical, though clearly I should have given her more credit,” she admitted, and Coulson found himself feeling pleased she acknowledged how important a member of this team Skye was. “Honestly, Coulson. The search for her parents, her tracking you and Raina down, Ian Quinn, San Juan.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Take your pick.”

Phil sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I probably should have expected that,” he confessed. The problem was, he hadn’t been looking at it objectively. In his mind, all of those moves made sense. He _had_ to help Skye, bottom line. He never needed to confront his reasons, because no part of him ever questioned what he was doing. Of course, from the outside, it would be a bit more...obvious.

“If you had asked me, I thought the symbols were going to be what finally brought all of _this_ ,” she gestured to his current state, “to a head.” Coulson nodded.

That had been one of the first times he considered confronting it. And, well, things turned out a bit differently.

***

“We can’t tell her,” Phil rasped from the floor, carving blade cast to the side. It was his third incident, the first time he brought May in. “She can’t see these,” he said desperately, and May watched him, impassive.

Waking up to find himself in a different room that first time, having carved an entire wall of strange symbols, Phil had been confused and terrified. What had he done? Where had this come from? How long had it been going on? Seeing Garrett’s window carvings laying nearby, it started to add up. At first he closed off the room completely, searching for materials to cover it up before anyone asked questions. And for couple weeks, it was fine. He let it go, assumed foolishly it was a result of the giant upheaval that had become his life, and he put it from his mind.

Then it happened again. And he knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon. There was a moment, in his worried state, after the second carving episode, that he put all of the details together. This only started when he saw what must have been Garrett’s carvings. Garrett drew them under the influence of the GH formula, the formula that was in Coulson’s--

 _No_. Rising clumsily from the floor, Phil began to panic. _What if_ \-- running out of the room, Coulson rushed to the hangar, where the damaged Bus had been parked, out of commission. It was open, had been open since their arrival, and he cursed. In a flurry he ran through the plane, looking for any sign of Garrett’s carvings. He had already grabbed the glass window, which now resided in the locked storage room. Hurrying through the lab, Phil saw sheets of paper under a desk, covered with the same symbols. Breathing heavily he grabbed all of them. _Should I destroy them?_ He looked toward the lounge area, wondering if the electric fireplace would work.

After tucking them under his arm, Coulson did a sweep of the rest of the plane. The interview room. The bar. The cockpit. His office. Each room had the frightening symbols stashed somewhere, just out of plain sight. Walking behind his desk, Coulson saw that they had been carved on one of his drawers. He lost it. Phil threw the papers down, hearing them spread out, covering the floor. Grabbing a pen he knelt down and scratched furiously, digging the pen into the wooden surface as deeply as he could, destroying the image messily until the symbols were gone and the pen was broken in his hand. He looked to the sheets upon sheets of paper now littering his floor. He had to destroy all of them.

“Coulson?” May’s voice cut through his panic, and he looked up. Seeing his face, she looked shaken. “Phil? What’s wrong?” He followed her eyes to the pages of writing on the floor, and realized, as a drop fell from his nose onto one of the symbols, he hadn’t just been sweating.

 _No wonder she’s worried_ , he thought blankly. He looked up. “We have to get rid of these, she can’t see them.”

May had listened to his concerns, forcing him to sit in the chair and breathe. Rather than destroying the papers, she put them in a file they would lock in his desk. Calmly she helped him spackle over the symbols in the storage room, and listened to his description of feelings leading up to the episodes. Together, they worked out a way to predict them before they happened, so the writing could stay contained in one area of the base. No one could know what the Director was doing. Not if they wanted SHIELD to recover in any way.

She did seem dismayed, however, that “no one” included Skye.

“How do you know she won’t find them on her own?” May had asked an exhausted Coulson, after that third episode. “Phil, if she sees these and reacts, and we’re not there to--”

“That won’t happen,” he interrupted, standing shakily. “We got all of Garrett’s drawings, and we’ll destroy these as soon as I’m done. We stick with that, and she’ll be fine.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” she argued. “Do you really think this is limited to you and Garrett? What if they show up on a mission? If someone else out there is carving them?” Reaching the toolbox, Coulson reached in and threw a hammer across the room, at that damn wall. He was still agitated from carving, from having to take a back seat while his body was compelled to create the strange and frightening images.

 _I can’t put her through that_ , he thought. _Not after I poisoned her with the serum to begin with._

“Phil,” May said quietly, not approaching him. “Listen to me. It will be much worse if Skye sees these from an outside source. We do it here, we keep it controlled.” He opened his mouth to protest, but May put up a hand. “Your circumstances were different. Skye was still alive, she didn’t go through the whole process. The way she reacted was...unusual, right?” Coulson set his jaw, remembering Skye’s reaction to the formula. “Maybe she won’t have the same problem. We introduce her to the symbols, slowly, ask her to do some research. That might even give us some insight, if she finds anything.” She smiled slightly. “If anyone can figure out what the hell these things mean--”

“It’s Skye,” he finished, but still felt rotten. “So, we show her these symbols then she becomes, what, a ticking time bomb?” May shook her head.

“We’ll just do some non-invasive surveillance, after introducing her to them.” At the Director’s raised eyebrow she sighed. “ _Non_ -invasive. We put a security camera outside her door, just to see if she leaves in the middle of the night, like you did. You’ve already approved my position as her SO, so I’ll just monitor certain things, look for physiological symptoms like yours before an episode.”

He saw the logic in it, but also saw the resemblance to May’s “monitoring” of him in the past. That didn’t sit right with Coulson, but like May said, he would rather she see them here than out in the field. At least here they would be able to talk to her first. Watching May begin to cover up the symbols on the wall, he moved over to assist. _This is the only way we can help her._

“Should I stay away from her?” He asked, and May’s head shot up to look at him.

“What?”

Phil returned his attention to the wall. “What if I have some sort of influence, that might encourage…” He could practically hear May frown next to him.

“You need to be careful with the pseudo-science, Coulson. That’s assuming whatever is in her knows about what’s in you. That doesn’t make sense, does it?” She sighed, moving upward to erase more of the wall. “Plus, pushing Skye away…”

“I think it might be for the best.” His tone said it was final, but his gut worried he was making the wrong choice.

 

Coulson heard his office door open and shut behind him. Agent May sighed. “I thought we agreed to watch the footage in the morning,” she said, exasperated. “Because watching it live, all night is _insane_ , remember?” From his spot in front of the monitor, Coulson didn’t respond. Logically he knew, yes, that there was no way he could stay up all night, every night, watching the video feed from outside Skye’s room.

But that first night, he had tried. He tried to sleep, tried to reassure himself that they’d watch the footage, and if they saw something amiss, addressing it the next morning would be just the same as the night of. If he knew Skye, she might even come find them before they had a chance to watch the video. After all, it wasn’t as if he had been in any grave danger when he carved the symbols.

But the waking up, coming out of it that first time and seeing what he had done... Maybe it wouldn’t bother her. Maybe she would see the symbols, similar to what Coulson had handed her the other day, full of dread, and think they were just in her subconscious. That she had spent so much time staring at them, coupled with the shock of SHIELD being overthrown, that she was just sleepwalking. _I couldn’t bear it though_ , Coulson thought. _I couldn’t bear it if she had to deal with it alone, even for one night._

So he went up to his office, set up a chair in front of the monitors, and he watched. Every second he watched, worried that he’d see that door open, and his worst fear would be realized. That he had done something irreparable to Skye. Silently, May pulled up a chair next to him, and they watched the screen. He could feel her eyes watching him, but couldn’t be bothered to try to explain his actions. Was it out of guilt? He wasn’t sure. But it didn’t feel entirely about that. That was something he didn’t dare explore yet. Next to him, May sat up in her chair, and he followed suit. Skye’s door opened.

“No,” he muttered, standing up.

“Coulson--”

He ran out of the office.

Down the stairs and through the halls, he hurried to follow her. Phil wasn’t sure what he was expecting to do when he found her. Watch, horrified as she lost control of her body, not knowing what was happening to her? Then he would have to explain that it was because of him. Not only did he inject her with the GH formula to begin with, but he handed her photos and drawings that he knew could cause this. He just knew one thing at that moment: he needed to be with her when it happened. She couldn’t be alone.

Slowing down, Coulson tried to figure out where Skye had gone after leaving her room. He looked for open doors, any signs she had been by, anything to help indicate her presence. He saw a light on in the kitchen. Quietly, he crept up to the entrance, hearing movement inside. Then he walked through the door.

He let out the breath he had been holding.

Skye was leaning against the counter, waiting for the tea kettle to boil. Upon seeing him, her tired face lit up, then schooled itself into a dutifully contrite expression. “Hey, sorry, did I wake you?”

Coulson sighed, shaking his head, and Skye looked concerned. “Were you working out or something? You’re all sweaty. Sir.” Seeing she wasn’t going to get an answer from him (she was familiar with that feeling by then, he acknowledged ruefully,) Skye went about getting her tea ready, holding out the box questioningly to see if he wanted some. Phil shook his head, and she shrugged, placing a bag next to her cup.

“But thanks,” he said, realizing those were the first words he’d said since walking in. She gave him a soft little smile. Behind her, the kettle began to whistle and she turned off the heat, removing it from the burner.

He wondered if he should ask why she couldn’t sleep, if anything was wrong. _Stupid question_ , he told himself. _Everything is wrong_.  But he couldn’t agree with that, not fully. Watching Skye sit at the table waiting for her tea to steep, healthy and herself, at least one thing was okay. “Have a good night, Skye,” he said, and while she looked confused, Skye smiled.

“Goodnight, Sir.” Coulson smiled slightly and walked out. Once he was down the hallway, far enough away from the door, he leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. When May found him there, concerned, he looked up smiling in relief.

“Everything’s fine.”

***

Obviously it hadn’t been completely fine, it eventually occurred to Phil that Skye’s non-reaction to the formula could be as alarming as the carving. _And now…_

“I think you need to understand,” May started slowly, as if worried she would scare him away. “That you tend to push Skye away when you’re worried about hurting her, and that just makes things worse.” Phil grimaced, acknowledging the truth in that. After their _enlightening_ talk the previous night (he made an effort not to deliberately intimidate Hunter, but if he happened to walk in the room and the younger agent decided to quickly leave, he wasn’t going to say anything,) Coulson knew that he had been right before. After everything they had gone through, it was leading up to _something_. And now that Skye made her feelings clear--though he still had trouble believing that, to be honest--it was up to him. To determine if that something was deepening the relationship they had, or ending it.

 _Does it have to be either of those?_ That was what concerned him the most, because as much as the idea of a relationship with Skye thrilled him-- _It wasn’t something I ever considered possible_ \-- the idea of an ending to the relationship they’d had frightened him. What if he was right, that something this good couldn’t really happen to him? What if they tried and it didn’t work? Did she really know what she was getting into with him?

Something hit him in the face, and Coulson realized with a jolt that May had flicked a paper football at him. She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re right,” he told her. “I push Skye away. But…” he trailed off, frustrated. “I can’t-- _can’t_ ruin it, May. What if she changes her mind, or doesn’t understand what this involves?” _What if she realizes that’s not how she feels_ , is what he was really worried about. _What if she discovers she’s made a mistake._

May looked annoyed, as if she could read those self-conscious thoughts on his face. “Does that sound like Skye to you?” She asked, standing up. “I thought _I_ didn’t give her enough credit.” Leaving the room, May sent him one last look-- _Don’t screw this up_ \-- before leaving the room.

“She said I could have time,” he muttered.

***

“We need more time, Sir!” Hunter’s voice shouted through the comms, and Coulson grimaced. The plan had been a simple retrieval; a SHIELD safehouse out in the desert was said to have some equipment in it that had yet to be snatched up by Hydra. Of course, they happened to arrive at the same time. The house itself was built more like a bunker, and an old one at that. The heavy walls had cracks in them, and they were questioning the move onto the second floor when a Hydra team showed up.

Watching from the control room on the Bus, Coulson had to come up with an alternate strategy. Upon hearing Hunter’s call, May left the cockpit. “Looks like we’re not making a quick getaway,” she muttered, grabbing her gun.

“Fitz,” Coulson called over to the engineer, who looked up from the screens.

“Yes, Sir.”

“We need to know what’s worth getting out of that house, and where it is,” Coulson ordered, and Fitz nodded.

“I’ll send the dwarves.”

“Everyone, hold them off as long as possible, if we see something valuable in the house, we grab it and get out of here, understood?” He hated to put the agents at risk for supplies, but that was the grim reality with an underground, underfunded SHIELD. Weapons, gadgets, artifacts, anything that wasn’t already in Hydra’s hands needed to be in theirs. And everyone understood that. Possibly too much.

All of the agents were fighting outside the perimeter of the house, except one. “Sir, it looks like Skye is in the building,” Fitz said, gesturing to the video feed from one of the dwarves. “Skye, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you Fitz,” she muttered and Coulson saw her navigating carefully around the dark house. “Anything I should be looking for in particular?” Seeing Skye in the field never ceased to impress Coulson, who found himself regretting his choice to man the comms on this mission.

 _But we weren’t expecting a Hydra team_ , he told himself, eyeing the nearby flak vest. _It looks like they could use a hand._

“I’ll take a look around upstairs,” Fitz told Skye, and the drone’s view moved away from her, flying through the house.

A loud bang sounded on the video feed, different from the constant gunfire outside.

“Fitz, what was that?” Coulson asked, and Fitz got a visual.

“Looks like the door. Skye, one of the Hydra agents is in the house!” Fitz alerted her, and Coulson moved. Throwing his vest on, he ran off the Bus, heading toward the team. They had formed a perimeter of sorts about 100 feet around the house, working to push the Hydra soldiers further back.

“May, Hydra’s infiltrated the building,” Coulson said over the comms, watching May acknowledge him, then take out her opponent with a kick. Grabbing his gun, she turned around to see who was closest to the door.

“Bobbi, can you get in the house? I’ll cover you.” She began to run over to where Bobbi was, and Phil followed suit.

“Skye, everything okay in there?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, and Coulson heard a pained groan from her feed. She was fighting close quarters. “This guy’s a pain in my ass though.”

“We’re sending Bobbi in, give it a minute.”

“Copy that.” He heard Skye gasp a bit, then a tremor went through the ground. May and Bobbi looked toward the house.

“Skye?”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on--” Another tremor. “Sorry, he is not going down easy, things might get a little rocky around here.”

“Whatever you need to do,” Coulson told her, wishing they could get someone in to help her. Bobbi’s opponent wasn’t taking kindly to being brushed off, and apart from May no one else had seemed to be able to shake the bad guys. _If I could just get closer,_ he thought, but the wide open spaces made advancing from his distance without getting shot difficult.

Then Fitz’s voice sounded over their earpieces.

“Um, actually Skye, you might want to-- to-- stop doing that,” he said nervously.

“What’s going on, Fitz?” Another tremor rocked the ground, and it was then Coulson saw the crack forming in the wall of the building. Multiple cracks.

“I just checked the, uh the, structural integrity and it’, it’s not good, Skye, you need to stop shaking the place.” Coulson advanced closer, taking advantage of the distraction Skye’s quakes provided and took out Hunter’s assailant for him.

“Skye, did you hear him?” He asked impatiently.

“Copy that,” Skye said, and he heard an impact, this time from a punch. The house shook. “That wasn’t me,” Skye called, and he heard someone hit the floor. “I’m getting out of here, it looks like this place is going to collapse.”

“And Hydra?”

“He’s down,” Skye replied, and he sighed. Just as a loud crack sounded from the building. It looked like the ceiling was beginning to fall.

“Skye, you need to get out of there,” he said nervously, just as May and Bobbi took out their persistent opponent.

“Working on it, I’ll be--” her voice was cut off with a painful grunt. Hearing it, Bobbi ran toward the house, just as the rest of the ceiling collapsed.

“Skye!” Coulson called, but her radio went dead. Before she could get in the door, Bobbi was pulled back by May.

The second floor fell.

Shielding their faces from the cloud of dust that enveloped the area, the team fell back. Feeling like he was in a trance, Coulson started walking toward the destroyed house. Then he was running. It was nearly flattened, just piles of cement blocks, brick and broken wooden beams littered the ground. One feeble wall lurched on the right side, looking ready to keel over any second.

The dust was still settling when Coulson made it to the destruction, and he noted vaguely that Hunter and May had started climbing through the debris as well. He heard them calling out Skye’s name as he lifted boards and chunks of cement wall. Across what was once the house, Hunter froze for a second after pulling a wooden beam up from the ground.

“It’s ah, Hydra, it’s just Hydra,” he called out, breathing what may have been a sigh of relief. His face looked white, and as she walked by May gave him a pat on the shoulder. Coulson could feel her approaching him, as he kept his focus on his hands, now bloodied from the frenzied effort pulling up bricks and stone and wood.

“Coulson,” she called, and he shook his head, gritting his teeth.

“Not now, May.” She reached a hand out to his arm but retracted it, instead moving over to a tall pile of debris that she began to pull apart.

“Hold on,” Hunter muttered, “everyone shut--” Pulling strenuously, Hunter lifted a large sheet of plywood from the ground. It had been covered with rubble, so when he finally was able to lift it, he fell on his ass.

Then Phil heard it.

Coughing.

Literally out of a hole in the ground, Skye pulled herself up, covered from head to toe in dirt and dust. Sitting at the edge of the hole, she pushed herself to a standing position, painfully. From his spot on the ground, Hunter fell onto his back, breathing a genuine sigh of relief.

Of their own volition, Coulson’s feet had begun to walk over to where Skye now stood. At some point, Fitz had arrived from the Bus and had been frantically digging as well, using non-destroyed dwarves to scan the area. He ceased his movements, watching Skye appear out of seemingly nowhere. Seeing Coulson approach, Skye turned toward him, grimacing.

“Sorry about that,” she said, holding her leg gingerly, trying not to put weight on it. “Guy threw a freaking crowbar at my knee. I couldn’t get up so I improvised.” Getting closer, Coulson noticed that she really was completely covered, apart from her eyes which were as clear as ever.

Crawling over from his spot, Hunter had moved to the edge of the hole Skye climbed out of. “Did you burrow in the ground, like a gopher?” he asked, but to his credit didn’t sound teasing, only mesmerized. "Huh.” Skye looked down at him, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m full of surprises.” She turned back to Coulson, who had finally reached her. “Hey,” she said softly, “Sorry if I--” Her unwarranted apology was cut off then, as Phil pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. One hand held her face firmly and the other wrapped around her waist, and when she gasped he slipped his tongue into her mouth quickly. He kissed her like time had run out, like a buzzer was going off and he had almost missed his chance. Feeling Skye’s arms slide up to his neck, Coulson sighed, as Skye began to kiss him back eagerly.

He probably should have been concerned about Bobbi and May watching from a few feet away, and maybe Hunter’s jaw hitting the ground. Fitz’s little murmurs of, “Well that’s, that is, hm,” signified they’d probably have to have a talk with him--everyone, really,-- for for the moment, as Coulson pulled away and watched Skye’s eyes slowly open, he couldn’t be bothered.

A slow smile crept over her face, and Phil felt his own begin to form, but when she started to laugh, he grew confused. “You--” Skye reached up, rubbing around his lips with her thumb. “You’ve got, smudged all over,” she laughed quietly, “aaand I just made it worse.” For a split second he considered taking that thumb in his mouth, see what sort of face she made then, but between the dirt and the audience, he held back.

“You know you’re _covered_ , right?” He couldn’t help but ask, still tasting the gritty earth in his mouth.

“I figured,” she murmured, reaching up on her tiptoes-- “Ah, shit,” she cursed, remembering her leg. Glancing down at her knee, Coulson saw that it wasn’t bloody and didn’t look broken, but she would probably need to have it looked at just in case. Nearby Hunter stood, displacing some of the rubble and interrupting the near-silence that had taken over the area. Looking around at the team, Coulson tried to look Director-ly.

“Let’s wrap this up and get back on the Bus,” he said, using one of his arms to support Skye. “Fitz.”

The Scot looked startled, eyes darting around and almost determinedly not looking at Skye. “Ah, yessir?”

“Can you and the dwarves look for anything of value that might have survived the collapse?” Coulson asked, raising an eyebrow. Looking less concerned he was going to be scolded, Fitz nodded. “Help him out?” Coulson asked, looking at May. She raised an eyebrow, but gestured for Bobbi and Hunter to come over and establish a plan. Looking down at Skye, who was examining the remains of the house, Coulson nudged her gently. “Let’s get that knee checked out.”

***

Hobbling onto the Bus, Skye looked over at Coulson, who had gone quiet. “So,” she started, aiming for ‘casual.’ “That was…enlightening.” The Director still said nothing, but his mouth slanted in a slight smile. Heading toward the lab, Skye stopped their motions and Coulson looked at her, curious. “Could we go to your office instead?” _Something_ flashed in his eyes before being pulled back, and he merely nodded. Together, they slowly made their way up to the Director’s office.

Finally reaching the familiar space, Skye pulled away from him slightly, carefully putting weight on her knee. She winced at the slight pain, but didn’t think it was broken. _Jerk_ , she thought, remembering the hope she felt about getting out of there in time before the Hydra agent’s last ditch effort knocked her onto the ground. She would admit that the burying herself into the ground was a pretty ingenious plan, though it was sheer luck that the hole was covered by plywood before any other rubble could fall in and crush her. _Maybe the idea needs a little fine-tuning,_ she thought.

Looking over at Coulson, she saw him sitting at his desk, digging through it for some first-aid materials. _That was unexpected_ , she thought, thinking about the Director’s sudden affectionate sneak attack. Prior to the mission he had been fidgety, likely due to her frank declaration of sorts. He said he needed time, and she was happy to give him that. _But how much time?_ She had wondered. They were functional, sure, but the air around them was changed. Even before this mission, presumed to be one with low stakes, Coulson had lingered before sending her off the Bus, double checking her flak vest.

“You shouldn’t need this,” he said, which was a bit funny now, considering the ambush. But nevertheless his hands methodically checked each buckle, as if he was worried the whole thing might just decide to remove itself. Skye simply put up with it, worrying that any sort of flirty comment or remark could be misconstrued as impatience for his decision. Her silence seemed unexpected, she guessed, since Coulson’s reaction to it was to look up at her face, almost nervous. “Right, well, see you in a bit,” he said quickly, backing off and moving over to the holotable. Inwardly, Skye cursed.

_Not the effect I was going for._

Apparently she wasn’t the only one regretting their inaction, though. _That kiss was...whoa._ That was the only way to describe it. A part of her was nervous now, with Coulson not bringing it up and instead focusing on her possible injuries. Had it been a spur of the moment, ‘gee I thought you were dead, but now you’re alive...’ thing? He had kissed her like he had no time left, but there _was_ time. There was time, and Skye was done wasting it. Reaching down, she began to unbuckle her vest, dropping it on the floor when Coulson finally looked up from his desk. He’d found the first aid kit.

Maintaining eye contact, Skye unzipped her jacket, allowing it to join the vest on the floor. She moved to the buttons on her shirt and saw Coulson swallow heavily, placing the kit back on the desk. Holding in a smirk, Skye dropped the shirt. She knew she was probably still covered in dirt, and sweaty, and the opposite of glamorous, but for one thing, Coulson seemed to be super into it. It she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she might have caught him making an ‘adjustment’ behind the desk. _Score_.

Reaching the bottom half of her little impromptu striptease hit a little snag, however. While her knee was more of a dull ache now, removing her boots wouldn’t be as easy as simply kicking them off. Luckily, she had a solution for that. Walking unevenly over to Coulson’s desk ( _So maybe not the smoothest seduction ever,_ ) Skye made her way to his side. Somewhat expectantly, Coulson turned in his chair to face her. She acknowledged it would be easy to call it quits now and climb into his waiting lap, but-- _No_ \-- she was having too much fun with this.

Leaning back she slowly sat on his desk, placing her foot on his knee. Not taking his eyes off of her face, Coulson reached down and began unlacing her boot. Skye felt her pulse beating wildly in her throat, but fought to keep her expression cool. Removing the shoe and sock, Coulson waited dutifully for her to give him her second foot.

This was her injured leg, and rather than going right to her laces, the Director made a point to run his hand up her calf, to her knee and back down. Skye worried she might lose it at that point, but then Coulson moved his attentions back to her boot and she took that moment to gather her wits.

_Cool it, Skye. You’ve got this._

Both her bare feet in his lap now, Coulson rubbed his thumbs across the soles gently, extracting a giggle from Skye. Scolding herself, she raised an eyebrow. “Was I right back then? Do you like feet?” Coulson furrowed his brow for a second, before responding.

“I like you,” he said simply, and Skye rolled her eyes. Coulson ran his hands up her legs now, until his thumbs rested between her thighs. Gently he tugged them apart, rolling his chair until he was seated between them.

“Fuck,” Skye muttered, _That was smooth._ Coulson did that deviously cute little smirk of his, bringing Skye back to her senses. Placing her foot on his chest she pushed him back until she had enough room to stand again, before walking away from the desk altogether. Behind her, she heard Coulson let out a groan. She smiled. “Your bathroom here has a shower, right?” She called over her shoulder, and she took the sharp little intake of breath she heard as an affirmative.

Walking into the bathroom, Skye was pleased to see that it had a combined bath and shower. _Making note of_ that _for later._ Turning the shower on, she turned back around and saw that, sure enough, she had been followed. Coulson closed the door behind him, and the close quarters (combined with the steam slowly filling the room) made Skye feel heady. _This is happening_ , she thought, watching him watch her. Realizing she still had some clothes to discard, Skye reached down and undid the top button of her pants. Coulson’s eyes followed, and she saw them rest on a point just above her hands.

Self-conscious for just about the first time, Skye rubbed a hand over her surgical scars. Coulson looked unhappy then, maybe realizing his error. Holding her eye contact he knelt down in front of her, grabbing her hands in both of his. Skye sucked in a breath as he kissed her there, reverently. Before she let herself get choked up over the moment, she moved Coulson’s hands to her zipper. When he looked up, she nodded. Slowly he pulled the zipper down, then moved his hands to her hips, pushing the material down to her knees, making sure his hands touched skin the whole way.

Skye closed her eyes, resting her hands on the back of his neck, fingers scratching at the short hair there. Feeling Coulson’s breath on her thigh, her eyes snapped open and she watched him trail kisses down her injured leg, stopping at her knee. She could see it was already forming a bruise. Gently he placed one last kiss there, keeping his eyes locked with hers. Skye exhaled quickly. Smiling, Coulson pushed her pants down the rest of the way, raising a gentlemanly hand up for her to hold while she stepped out of them. He tossed them to the side of the bathroom, before standing up.

Unable to even deal with what had just happened, Skye grabbed his face and pulled it roughly to her own, kissing him. The Director was only too happy with this development, opening his mouth under hers, scraping his teeth against her bottom lip. _He’s kind of noisy,_ Skye thought, thrilled. He wasn’t _loud_ , per se, but made all of these delightful little sounds that sent a chill down her spine. There was this sweet little sigh she’d heard the first time, this low almost moaning noise when he bit her lip or she moved her body into his. But when his hands moved from her waist to her lower back, Skye could feel the grittiness of the dirt on his hands, and remembered that she really did want that shower. Pulling away regretfully, Skye put a hand on Coulson’s chest, stilling him. She liked this look on him, she realized. Hair mussed, mouth kissed, dirt on his collar. He was still in a suit, while she was down to her bra and underwear, but given that his suits were one of her favorite things about him, she gave it a pass.

 _Not that I’m not looking forward to seeing more._ Reaching behind her, Skye undid the clasp of her bra, tossing that on the other side of the room with her pants. Placing one hand on his shoulder and giving him an innocent smile, Skye leaned into Coulson while she eased her panties down off of her hips. Ever the gentleman, Coulson smiled back at her, looking her in the eyes until she took a step back, intending to give him the whole effect.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the now-foggy mirror behind Coulson, Skye could see that she was kind of a mess. Face and hair still covered in dirt, the rest of her somehow getting a dusting of it from underneath her clothes. But you wouldn’t know that looking at Coulson. He looked like he just won the lottery. Like he had just discovered Captain America in the ice-- _If Captain America was a naked chick who was totally in love with him_ , she amended.

Turning around Skye slid the shower door open, stepping gingerly into the tub. Sighing as she stood under the warm spray of water, she did a quick rinse of her hair before looking out the still-open door. She looked at Coulson expectantly. “Are you coming in or not?”

He loosened his tie.

***

“Hold on, let me--” Skye placed her hands firmly on Coulson’s shoulders, confirming they wouldn’t slip, before scooting herself forward on his lap. Linking her legs behind his back, she let out a triumphant noise before pulling him in for another kiss. Maybe the shower (with a leg injury) wasn’t the best place for their first time together, she acknowledged. After managing to get some shampoo in her hair and rinsed out, they had a hell of a time figuring out logistics (‘ _How do people even do this?_ ’ She’d asked, after trying to prop one of her legs up on the rim of the tub and failing. Coulson had just pulled her back carefully before she slipped, distracting her with a wet kiss in between her breasts.)

B _ut it’s so worth it_ , she thought, pulling back to look at him. They’d somewhat managed to point the spray so it wouldn’t be in their faces, but Coulson still had water dripping from his hair down his face, and Skye was basically mesmerized. She followed one stream from his temple down into his chest hair, before it disappeared into the dark hair past his stomach and she decided that this really needed to happen _right now._

“You’re so fucking hot,” she almost growled into his neck, and she felt his chest shake with a startled laugh. She couldn’t claim to be entirely surprised by what was hiding under those suits (she’d seen him in a t-shirt, after all,) but when faced with the freckles and muscles and chest hair ( _No Ken Doll here,_ she had thought gleefully,) she couldn’t help it. She got a little excited. He had barely stepped out of his pants before she’d pulled him into the shower, finally relaxing after deciding she had put her hands everywhere she possibly could and it was time to _chill, Skye._

After trying a myriad of different placements, they had finally settled on facing each other on the shower floor. Having managed to scoot forward, Skye felt Coulson bend his knees, allowing her to lean back against his thighs. It was surreal, in a lot of ways. Being this close to a very naked, very wet, very naked _Coulson_ who, for most of the time she knew him, had been clad in a full suit. He was still reserved in a way, but she would catch him ditching his usual smirk for a genuine laugh, his serious face becoming full of an emotion she wasn’t quite ready to name. _His dick in between my legs_ , she thought crudely, taking the opportunity to rub herself against it.

“ _Skye_ ,” he groaned, and she bit her lip to hold back a huge grin. Of everything, that might be her favorite development. The way he said her name _like that._

“We good, boss?” Skye breathed in his ear, waiting for the go-ahead. Feeling him nod against her she pulled back, watching him clearly try to gather himself and focus. Delighted to see that she had this effect on him, she leaned in and kissed Coulson, hard and fast. Leaning back, she looked around her, trying to find leverage.  “Uhhh…” she started, not quite sure how to proceed. As smooth as anything, Coulson leaned back against the wall of the tub, placing his hands on her ribs, lifting Skye up and closer, until she could feel him pressing into the heat between her legs.

Tired of waiting she pushed her hips down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Coulson until his fluttered closed. Skye took a deep breath. _Whoa_. Opening his eyes after a couple beats, Coulson looked at Skye questioningly, and she nodded. Taking her cue, he used his grip on her sides to lift Skye gently, then slide her back down. She couldn’t help it, something between a moan and a grunt made its way out of her throat. Hearing Coulson chuckle lowly (when had she closed her eyes?) Skye put her hands on either side of the tub, finally finding that leverage she was looking for, giving the Director a challenging look.

_Let’s see who’s laughing now._

***

“Boy, that escalated quickly,” Skye murmured, stretching back on Coulson’s surprisingly fuzzy bathmat. Rolling off of her until they were side by side, Coulson scoffed. “I mean, that really got out of hand fast!” She couldn’t help herself. It had to be done. _If he can’t deal with my pop culture references, he’s in for a rude awakening._

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. Skye winced. Maybe lying on the floor wasn’t for everyone. Rather, every _activity_.

“Out of hand in a good way, of course,” she elaborated, rolling onto her side to face him. Feeling her hair slip off her back, Skye had a feeling it was a gnarled, knotted mess. _TV and movies totally lied about shower sex_ , she thought. Fun? Definitely. Glamorous? Not so much. Dangerous? _Very_. They had found themselves in a number of precarious positions before wrapping up no-so-elegantly on the bathroom floor. It may have been a bit colder than the shower itself, but Skye would rather be chilly than risk slipping, falling and breaking everything. _Besides, this rug is amazing,_ she thought, half lying across Coulson’s chest, running her fingers through the material they were spread out on. _It’s like sleeping on a muppet_. Feeling Coulson’s arms wrap around her back, Skye grinned. Propping herself up on an elbow, she looked at him curiously.

“So, what do you think?”

“About?” Coulson raised an eyebrow, still clearly dazed -- _you’re welcome_ \-- but regaining his bearings.

“This,” she said, gesturing to the two of them. “Are you a fan, would you like to try again at a later date, do you need more time to think about it?” She asked the questions casually, but wondered if maybe that wasn’t the right moment. Coulson frowned, rolling onto his own side to face her fully.

“Was this not clear?” He seemed serious, so Skye wasn’t quite sure what to say. She must have looked confused, so Coulson raised his eyebrows, giving her a look. “Big fan. Would love to try again. Already taken too much time,” he said flatly, but Skye could see the amusement in his eyes. Grinning with yes, some relief, she patted his chest gently.

“Well. That’s good to hear,” she told him, before rolling away and sitting up. Stretching her arms above her head (noting his blatant stare at her chest. _Score_ ,) Skye pushed herself off the ground. Coulson made a disappointed noise, and she rolled her eyes. “You do remember that we have a _team_ , right? One that probably is wondering where their Director went after publicly macking on the team’s resident superhero?” She used the term self-deprecatingly, and had done so in the past. It was the easiest way to refer to her powers without making it needlessly complicated, though Coulson had told her once that he wished she would own it with a little more earnestness. _He would_. Unfortunately, especially given their recent behavior, he was not in a place to be able to objectively call her ‘super.’

“Who am I kidding, they’re not wondering anything,” she muttered, looking around the bathroom for something to put on. “And considering I have zero clean clothes…” she bounded out of the room, heading for his closet.

“Wait. Skye? Skye, where are you going?” Coulson’s voice followed her as she opened the closet door, and he made it to her just in time to see her incredulous and amused face.

“How many of these do you own?” She asked, laughing at the absurd number of suits he had neatly hung in his closet.

“What? They’re nice suits,” he said defensively, crossing his arms. Skye let her eyes run over his still bare chest. Noting her stare, Coulson moved his hands to his hips.

“Show off,” Skye responded, before going back to the closet. “I mean, I agree, they’re great, but--” she pulled out two. “Are these not the exact same suit?” Coulson looked horribly offended.

“ _No_ ,” he told her emphatically, and Skye wondered if he just might change his mind about the two of them. “They’re completely different.” Nodding skeptically, Skye replaced them.

“Well, if you ask me, you are _totally_ rocking the one you’re wearing now.”

“Oh really?” He no longer seemed personally affronted, which Skye took as a good sign. His hands moved to her waist, which she took as another good sign. A great one, really.

“Mmmhmm,” she replied, leaning in to give him a chaste (if it can be considered chaste when both parties are butt-naked) kiss on the side of the mouth. Pulling away, she reached into his closet and pulled out a dress shirt. “How about this one?”

“You want me to wear that shirt?” Skye raised an eyebrow.

“You? No, _I_ want to wear this one.” At his face, she blanched. “Coulson, my clothes are _covered_ in dirt.”

“No, yeah, I know. Of course you can wear it.” His eyes darted away.

“Oh my god, you don’t want me to wear your clothes.”

“What? No, I don’t mind.” Skye thought her eyebrows just might disappear into her hairline. “Skye, I would love for you to wear my...very nice shirt. Nothing would make me happier.”

“That’s what I thought,” she told him, pulling the shirt over her head, hearing his dismayed sigh. “You know, I’m probably going to get into all of your nice stuff, I might even mess it up once in a while,” she said, “Accidentally, of course.” Sticking her head out through the collar, she grinned cheekily. “Change your mind yet?”

Despite her haphazard treatment of what was clearly a _very_ expensive shirt, and her damp hair, and the fact that sometimes she didn’t take care of herself, and would occasionally put giant cracks in the ground, the wonderful, classy, handsome Director of SHIELD cupped the sides of her bratty little face, looking at her seriously.

“Never.”

 


End file.
